


An Ex-God

by canidswain



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canidswain/pseuds/canidswain
Summary: It's peculiar, hearing a god - ex-god - cry. They feel like it should be some monumental event, some catastrophe to raise the sea-level and draw a tsunami through their window. But he's mortal now, they remind themself.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character, Tempest/Eklyre





	An Ex-God

**Author's Note:**

> just a little thing for some of my dnd ocs. love them

Eklyre has a god in their bed.

An ex-god. A man who was a god until Eklyre socked it out of him.

He's laying at the other side of the bed, trembling despite the quilt atop them both. He tries to muffle his sobs, but Eklyre can hear them loud and clear.

It's peculiar, hearing a god - ex-god - cry. They feel like it should be some monumental event, some catastrophe to raise the sea-level and draw a tsunami through their window. But he's mortal now, they remind themself.

They only let him stay because they know he would die out there. Countless people want him dead, their own people, and they feel like a traitor for it but the way he shivers and whimpers and screeches like a cornered animal draws sympathy into their heart.

But he's still keeping them away.

"Look, just because I'm letting you squat doesn't mean…"

They trail off as the crying abruptly stops with a choked sound. He lays there, clutching at the blanket, holding his breath.

Eklyre forgets what they were going to say. They blink, slowly, in the darkness - their mind strays down a different road.

"Do you remember who you were?"

A note of surprise rings out in the breath that Tempest pulls into his lungs. He's silent, still acting like he's been asleep the whole time. It doesn't fool Eklyre.

"...I remember having a mum. I-I.. I think we lived by the sea." Lilting Irish spreads out gently into the quiet room.

The tiefling considers for a moment, pushing their face into the pillow.

"Do you miss her?"

There's less hesitance this time, "I don't know who she was."

"Oh." Eklyre grunts. "Well."

The two resume their tense silence, as far from each other as possible without one toppling off the bedside.

"I'm just lonely, I guess. Been lonely for millennia."

Eklyre hates the way their heart clenches, how they frown, how the words come out without them meaning to -

"You can.. hold me. If you want."

They regret it. They try to tell themself they regret it.

"Oh."

Tempest doesn't move.

"Oh. Well, thank you…" he halts, uncertain, "Mr. Eklyre."

"Just Eklyre, kid," they grimace.

A snort. Eklyre feels almost impressed.

"Kid?"

"You're not immortal anymore. Far's I'm concerned, you're 25."

Tempest hums. Eklyre grits their teeth.

"Get over here already."

For a second, Eklyre thinks Tempest has rejected their offer, but then he finally shuffles along behind them. An arm hesitantly folds around their side, the genasi's nose pressing to the back of their neck, and their heart races.

He's adorable, and vulnerable, and open, they realise. His breath flutters, disturbing their hair, but they find themself snaking an arm up to lightly ghost over his bicep.

It clutches, tracing a thumb across his skin. So soft, it makes Eklyre angry.

He should have been dead years and years ago. And it makes Eklyre angry at how selfish they are, to be glad that he's still alive to touch so tenderly.


End file.
